For My Husband?
by Krile
Summary: Remember, don't go chasing after any weird guys! - Milanor should REALLY have taken that statement more seriously.


_Disclaimer_: Yggdra Union belongs to Sting and Atlus, not me.

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For My Husband?

by Krile

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He'd admit, at first, that he was surprised when she'd come over and give him what he thought was a typical (but very good, he had to say) meal during the times the Royal Army had to rest. She'd go up to him discreetly, when no one was close enough to notice, and hand him the plate. Always a joyful smile after, and then she was gone.

That was all.

After a couple of weeks, however, Silver Wolf Milanor was beginning to get suspicious. Sure, he may have been a bit dense at times, but even _he_ knew something was off. Who _couldn't_ notice that nobody else had the same meal he had? In fact, they all shared the same meal, completely different from his. Before, he'd just dismiss it as getting a special meal for being such a high rank amongst the army (he'd get that castle in no time at the rate he was going!), but when he noticed one day that even _Princess_ _Yggdra_ got a bowl of soup like everyone else, well... he had to ask someone first, at least to figure out if he was going crazy or not.

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Snickers could be heard from all around the table where Milanor and his flunkies sat. Milanor groaned - this was _not _how he had wanted the plan to "ask someone about the situation" to go.

Stupid flunkies and their gossip. He swore, they were worse than Kylier.

"Boss, you mean you haven't even noticed 'til now?" One of the flunkies asked, trying to muffle his laughter.

Milanor shot him a look. "Of course I have! It's just... I, uh, was too occupied with leading this country to _victory_, you know?" He waved his hand like it was nothing, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Another flunky rolled his eyes. "RIght, Boss, right. But this definitely doesn't _look_ like food made for someone of high rank."

"Yeah, wouldn't they have, like, plates made out of gold or somethin'?"

Milanor rolled his eyes. "Then what do you think this kinda meal _is_, geniuses?"

More snickers. "Why does it matter? It ain't special at all. Just more..." the flunky glanced at the food; laid out in front of Milanor was, instead of a bowl of soup, a plate containing a nicely-cut piece of meat, with a side of potatoes and carrots. "...'well-balanced', I think the word is?"

"Yeah, looks like something my _MOM _would make!"

"Or my _WIFE_." The flunkies burst into laughter at that statement.

Milanor froze.

"Uh... Boss, are you okay?" This flunky genuinely looked concerned.

The stray thief shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts. "Uh, it's nothing. Really." The flunkies stared at him. "...What are you gawking at!? Hurry up and eat! You don't wanna miss out on this opportunity for good food, do you!?"

That was all it took. The flunkies dug in.

Milanor, on the other hand, just picked at his food, deep in thought.

--

The renowned Silver Wolf was already there, arms crossed, as the person he was waiting for approached him.

"Oh my! You were waiting for me?" the woman asked, smiling, "at least this means I don't have to go looking for you - your food shouldn't get too cold, after all!"

"Mistel," Milanor spoke lowly, his eyes narrowed, "why are you doing this?"

Said woman blinked, looking honestly confused. "What? You don't like it?" She set the plate down on the nearest wooden table and put her finger to her chin, thinking. "Hmm, well there _are_ other recipes I've been dying to try..."

"That's not what I meant!" the thief snapped, "why are you giving me _this_?" He gestured towards the food.

Mistel just smiled at him again. "I want my army to stay healthy, of course."

Milanor rubbed his temples; this woman was definitely trying his patience. "I'm the only one who's gotten _this_ kind of food from you, _this_ kinda treatment... why?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb with me!" Milanor fumed. "Now tell me - _why_ are you doing this!?" The stray thief was usually pretty easy-going, but he let his anger override his confusion.

"Oh...," the self-acclaimed housewife trailed off, "n-no reason. I'm just trying new and different things for a change, and you work so hard..." When she looked at Milanor and noticed the answer she gave was not good enough, she let out a sigh. "...While I love feeding an entire army, I just... I just want to cook like a real housewife again. A casual, everyday meal created for my husband alone... well, if not for my husband, then at least for someone..."

There was an awkward silence between the two then; Milanor staring at Mistel, who wouldn't look him in the eye.

Finally, Milanor began to put the pieces together. Mistel always said she was a housewife, but barely said a thing about her husband. Where was he, anyway? Did he leave her? Did she ever have one? Or was it a dream unfulfilled?

Either way, the thief wasn't angry anymore.

"Look, Mistel." She raised her head. "Don't worry about it, okay? Whatever you wanna do is fine with me; I probably shouldn't be questioning this anyway. Either way, thanks for the food - you're one hell of a good cook!" He flashed her a grin.

More silence.

Milanor began to wonder if he said something wrong again when Mistel suddenly flung herself into his arms. "Oh, I'm so happy you like it!" She pulled away, her true smile back on her face, so bright that it almost sparkled. "I'm sure you'll make a fine husband someday!" With that said, she pulled away, bowed, and left the area, a slight skip to her step.

Milanor stared unblinkingly at her retreating form before sighing in relief, glad the tension was gone and his questions were answered. She just wanted to make meals solely dedicated for her future husb-

Wait.

_"..for my husband alone?"_

_"...a fine husband someday?"_

It suddenly clicked.

"Oh, _HELL_ no!"

fin

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_Author's Note_: I'll bet the majority of you are going "wait, what?" to this fanfic. Honestly, if I just noticed the story out of nowhere without reading the summary, I'd be thinking the same thing. Or maybe _still_ be confused.

Either way, the summary explains it all. Mistel's grandfather told her to not go chasing after any weird guys. And when Milanor laughed at that statement... well, you know the rest.


End file.
